…
A Coffin — is a small Domain,
Yet able to contain
A Citizen of Paradise
In it diminished Plane.
Tag: <span>funeral</span>
For the death of the monarch, there is a sophisticated protocol that specifies the next few days in Great Britain – summarized under the code name “Operation London Bridge”. Created by the Queen herself, to assure everything will go as planned, while the nation will still be under shock.
“We cleaned his apartment out in the morning before the funeral,” my friend told me and I cannot explain it, but it bothered me.
His brother had just passed away, and he had been out of town for a week to attend the funeral and support his family. I understand that his time there was limited and that a lot had to be done, still, it bothered me.
I made an unbelievable discovery this week, and ever since I am in peace. I felt a dramatic shift in me and in the blink of an eye, the balance in me was restored.
Like so many of us, I watched the funeral of former President Georg H. W. Bush. Not in full lengths -one has to work to make a living- but I listened to it during my work and looked up at the TV screen when I wanted to.
A bagpiper was recently asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper’s cemetery in the back country. The bagpiper was not familiar with the backwoods, he got lost and, being a typical man, he didn’t stop for directions.
Recent events brought to my attention, that I might not live to be a hundred as I planned. I mean don’t get me wrong, nothing has changed, I still plan on sitting on the porch of an assistant living home – high up in my 90’s. I will be listening to “Uprising” by Muse -just to rock the boat- and my husband will be right by my side, sipping his watered down beer through a straw.
I lost a friend, a very good friend; just heard about it before Christmas. No, let me rephrase this. I lost one of my best friends, she died and I didn’t even know about it. I didn’t know about it, because we weren’t talking.
We had a funny neighbor when I grew up. He was an older gentleman, with a kind heart and a very wicked sense of humor. He loved to play pranks on everybody and making other’s laugh was his main goal in life.
Lately, I seem to have encounters with people who have never heard of common sense, so it’s time to publish the following obituary. It was printed in the London times a few years back.
I don’t know exactly why I do this, but whenever I have to say Goodbye to a beloved friend or family member, I buy a plant. Even for our four-legged family members. Sometimes for the outside, either a tree or a rosebush, often Orchids for the inside.